We recently moved into our first home and I have been given the green light to go furniture hunting. Now I’m sure that most women, given carte blanche to go furniture shopping, would be absolutely delighted and their only trouble would be having to trim their wishlist. My problem, however, is the exact opposite. I find myself stricken with an almost ridiculous panic when faced with the simple question: what do I want my living room and dining room to look like?
I should first explain that I am anything but a girly-girl. If I was lucky, I would get hit by a mysterious force every three months or so that would remind me to get a haircut, a manicure or, if I was feeling particularly adventurous, new clothes.
But more importantly, I am shopping impaired. Yes folks, I shop much like your typical male. I know what I want, I go in, I get it and I leave, usually in under 5 minutes. How? Because my clothes shopping trips usually consist of replenishing my basics: jeans, tank tops, undies. No thought is given to style and, sadly, little thought is given to fit. Does it look better than a potato sack, even marginally? Okay! Who cares if it’s not fitting as it should… it was 50% off!
This, of course, also explains why my dear girl friends have plotted to nominate me, multiple times, to What Not to Wear. Luckily, to the best of my knowledge, they have not yet succeeded. However I do sometimes tremble in fear, wondering if Stacy and Clinton will accost me in some public place for the shame of wearing my maternity jeans more than 5 months post partum. (They’re comfortable, dammit.)
However, common sense kicks in when I realize that I CANNOT apply this method of shopping towards my new home’s furniture. The Hubster agreed that because where we live is now Home ™ and We Own It ™ we ought to take some pride in it, meaning that whatever furniture we pick out is meant to last forever and ever, amen. This is the furniture that The Little Empress will grow up around, learn to crawl and cruise on, jump on, jump off, run around, chase the dog around, spill grape juice on, do her homework on, etc.
So with that in mind, I asked The Hubster what kind of furniture he wanted. His answer, “Meh.”
When I inqiuired about whether or not he wanted modern, contemporary, traditional, etc. I was met with a blank stare and yet another, “Meh.”
He is no help whatsoever.
So now I find myself with the clock ticking for Labor Day sales, frantically searching for nearby furniture stores and wondering just what the hell to buy. Did I want traditional? Or did I want contemporary? What WOULD one classify Pottery Barn as? And can anyone actually afford PB full price? Geezus chrysler, someone must be able to.
While I’m truly grateful for the opportunity to pick out furniture like this, I still feel a bit like I’m a little girl playing in adult world. I keep reminding myself that this place has to look grown up and sophisticated but I feel like I’m anything BUT.